I was initially intending to do this as an email signature only. But then, looking through my mailing list (which is several hundred strong), I realized that many people on it are either themselves filmmakers (though not necessarily animators) or have contacts in the film world. So hey (thought I), why pussyfoot around? Just go for it and send out a mailing. The old tried and true Babe Ruth theory.*

And this is what I have to say:

Wanted:Animators (and producers/directors) forThe Faerie Princess
I would like to see The Faerie Princess (my erotic fairly tale in verse) done as an animated film. Using the complete text of the poem, exactly as written (there are 63 quatrains, all of them rhymed). The animated visuals could either be sexually explicit (as per some of the action/activities described in the poem), or softer but nonetheless romantically sensual. The difference between what I believe in Japanese anime is called hentai and ecchi.

As you’ll already know from the title of this piece, what follows is the story behind The Faerie Princess, my erotic fairy tale in verse. Those who have not yet read the poem may want to do that now. If so, make sure to come back here afterwards! Or you can read this first and the poem later. There’s a link to it down below, as well ashere

I wrote The Faerie Princess in London in 1977. It was a prolific time for me. Sitting at my studio desk facing a large bay window (with the curtains drawn, as I usually worked late at night), a succession of poems and short stories were flowing from my typewriter in rapid succession. This was in Brixton, on Lambeth Road, not all that far from the prison. Jane Harvey and I were renting the flat from a friendly Polish landlord whose wife was an actress. The studio was also my Kali room. I’d made a vow that for every poem or story the deity allowed me to write that was not specifically about or dedicated to her, the next one would be. I also performed various Kali devotions, many of which were overtly sexual. Such was the nature of my relationship with Hindu goddess of death, destruction and the transformation of time. (Once, in Kathmandu, Jane abruptly left the flat we were sharing there and flew off to Thailand, saying: “This place is only big enough for two people. You and Kali have fun.”) Anyway, The Faerie Princess was one of those in-between poems. Whatever triggered it, the words pretty much poured out nonstop. I also knew from the start that rhyme and meter would be key.